


Do You Feel It?

by SlicedMilk



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood, Choking, Crying, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Drunk Sex, Extremely Dubious Consent, Graphic Sex, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mentions of sex work, Overstimulation, Past Abuse, Pole Dancing, Porn With Plot, Screaming, Sex Work, Sexual Abuse, Smut, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Violent Sex, Vomiting, sick, tracking devices
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25394887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlicedMilk/pseuds/SlicedMilk
Summary: He’s not Rick’s Morty. He isn’t anyone’s Morty, not anymore. But a Morty can’t survive without a Rick and a Rick can’t be a Rick without a Morty.I wrote this at 4am.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter: strip clubs, pole dancing, implied sex work, Drinking, mentions of abuse, Restraints, tracking devices
> 
> Let me know if I need to add anything to this list ^

Rick hadn’t been to The Creepy Morty before. At least, not _this_ Rick. But here he was.

That last fight with his own Morty had left a real sour taste in his mouth. He had to “accept that Morty is growing up” or whatever Beth had said. He didn’t have to like it though. Morty was fed up of their adventures again, fed up of being traumatised and injured and being made fun of-It isn’t Rick’s fault Morty can’t see that he’s just trying to toughen the poor kid up. Rick swallows hard before he walks in, flask in hand. There are other Ricks there, _lesser_ Ricks, Ricks that clearly spend far too much time ogling over Mortys.

He hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect, but this was _way_ worse than he’d thought it would be. There are Mortys giving Ricks awkward dances and strip teases at each booth, every single one is booked up completely. He hates himself for even being here. It made him feel nauseous, but then again... he always felt nauseous. He plops himself down infront of the main stage, getting comfy in one of the chairs, and orders a drink. Before long he can’t even remember what it is he’s getting rounds of. It actually takes him a moment to notice the lights have dimmed, and he glances up at the stage right as a Morty walks on stage. But they aren’t like any other Morty he’s seen, he doesn’t believe it even could be a Morty at first, but they are.

they're tall, and older than any Morty Rick has seen. And they’re hot. Rick can feel himself sweating a little looking at the Morty on stage. They’re wearing tall platform boots and ripped up jeans, chains and studs covering most of the outfit. They’ve got a harness on too, and a collar, their hair is dyed all sorts of colours and styled into a messy Mohawk. Is this what his Morty will look like one day? No way. They’re covered in piercings, their skin decorated with thick black body paint. Arms, neck, and hands covered in bracelets, chains, and rings of all sorts. The strut up to the front of the stage, and glance around at all the Ricks gathering to watch.  
  


but then Rick notices the flickering light on their thick studded bracelets. A poorly hidden set of handcuffs. From the look of them, they’re to keep his Morty here, in the club, they likely have a shock feature, in case he gets rowdy with whichever Rick it is he belongs to.

If this Morty is bothered by the cuffs, which he definitely will be-Mortys hate _knowing_ they’re trapped-he’s hiding it well. The music picks up as the Morty struts to the front of the stage, eyes skimming the crowd before he starts to dance, and _goddamn_ does he know what he’s doing. He practically hangs off of the pole in the centre of the stage, progressively loosing items of clothing, showing off more and more skin, eventually getting down to just the harness and some bikini briefs he’s wearing. Rick manages to tear his gaze away from that Morty and glances among the other Ricks, noticing how they’re all practically drooling over him. Rick hates himself, and all the other himselves here. All Ricks are like this, there isn’t a Rick alive that hasn’t thought about Morty this way, that’s why places like this even exist. That’s why they do so well. This Morty though? He’s older, and he knows what he’s doing-clearly. Knows how to move his body just right, he obviously knows what Ricks like-Rick groans quietly to himself, his trousers are getting tighter. He hates himself so much. Why can’t he ever be like the other Ricks, they just enjoy it without thinking too hard about it. But he’s _the_ Rick, of course he can’t, he can’t enjoy fucking anything.  
  


He manages to will himself out of the seat he’s in and stumble outside, he knew he shouldn’t have come here, he knew he’d end up hating himself even more if he came here. He slumps against the back alley wall of the club, contemplating exactly how much more he’d hate himself if he got off right now.

He must’ve been thinking about it too long or hard, because he’s startled awake out of his drunken nap when he hears the heavy metal fire escape door clank closed. He looks over to the sound, and sees the Morty that had been dancing, they both stare at each other for a moment, his eyes are angry, hurt, he turns away from the Rick on the floor and lights his cigarette. He’s changed clothes, he’s wearing looser ratty clothes, same boots though. Rick must’ve been out for a few hours at least. He can’t help himself.

”Since when do Mortys smoke?” It sounds more vicious than he intended. The Morty spins to face him quickly, angrier than before, he sees the burn in that Mortys eyes.

”Since when do Ricks care?” Rick recoils a bit at that, just watching the younger man for a minute. He’s going through that cigarette pretty damn fast

”You’re a good dancer” he backtracks for some reason, unable to think up any clever come back, that’s the first time in a while that’s happened. The Morty looks at him puzzled

”you left, weren’t you uncomfortable?”

”You noticed?” Rick grins back, the Morty rolls his eyes

”Fuck off.” It’s weird hearing it from a Morty, saying it so casually, joking with him like an equal.

“Yeah well, I was, but not in the sense I think you mean.” Wow he is too drunk to be talking to a hot Morty right now. He makes eye contact with the Morty again, big mistake. Whatever this weird atmosphere was, it’s different now, more intense, suffocating almost.   
  


“you liked it then?” The Morty smiles slyly. Rick has to physically restrain himself to avoid flirting.

”I’m a Rick aren’t I? And you clearly know what Ricks like.” He gets a hum of agreement from the Morty, then watches then put out their cigarette on the back of their hand, just above the handcuff. “So which Rick did that?” He gestures to it as he walks closer, taking the Morty’s arm in his hand and turning it over to see the cuff. This Morty doesn’t move away or flinch, it’s odd, standing this close to a Morty, not feeling any fear coming off of them, no anxiety either, instead, just smelling nicotine, sweat, and whiskey.

”Not a Rick, Big Morty.” Rick feels his eyebrows raise.

”I shouldn’t be surprised, it’s practically falling apart, this type of shoddy work is clearly a Morty’s doing.”

  
“All Ricks say shit like that.”

”Don’t believe me, here” he shrugs and within two turns of his screwdriver and the cuffs fall to the floor. The Morty doesn’t move, he looks a little shell shocked for a moment. He looks at the cuffs where they’ve landed on the floor, for a moment they’re both quiet, and then the flickering light on the cuffs turn red and an alarm sounds, remarkably loud for such small devices. Rick stomps on one of them while Morty takes off down the alley. Rick isn’t used to having to try so hard to catch up to a Morty, but this one is actually in shape. “Where are you even running to?! Slow down!” He calls after them, turning a corner after seeing the, duck into this alley. But it’s empty, no Morty to be seen. Rick sighs heavily, and starts to walk back to his ship.  
  


When he gets to his ship however, there’s someone waiting for him. The same Morty, he’s leaning against his ship like he owns it. Rick mumbles as he fiddles to open the ship, still tipsy and head aching “why are you here?” He leaves out the part where he asks how the hell he knew which ship was his. “I already have a Morty, so I’m not going to-“

”I don’t wanna be your damn Morty, I want a fresh start, take me to a planet, a safe one.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

”I gave you a boner, and I can do way better than that if you want. But I don’t even need to offer that, do I, Rick?” Rick stops and eyes up the Morty for a second, it wouldn’t hurt to take him back home with him, let him loose on earth, he wasn’t obviously a Morty, he could start his own life and Rick wouldn’t have to think about this ever again. “You’re a Rick, you do anything you want, just cause it fucks things up for someone else, and you’ll really be fucking up Big Morty’s game.”

”touché, get in.” The two clamber in and set off. What a fucking ride.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter: drinking, drug abuse, drunk sex, unsafe sex, choking, crying, blood, dubious consent, violent sex
> 
> Let me know if I need to add anything to this list ^

He doesn’t see that Morty for a while after he lets them loose on earth, but it’s only inevitable that they run into each other. That’s just what happens to Ricks and Mortys.

He’s at an off license next to a club, grabbing a drink before he heads home, he turns and almost bumps into Morty in the cramped aisles. He looks like shit, his eye are bloodshot and his skin is as pale as Rick’s. He’s clearly on something. Rick grimaces at the sight.

”Yikes Morty, I thought you wanted a fresh start not a funeral.”

”it’s Mortem” the younger man slurs, almost falling off into on the racks of canned food. Rick catches his arm to stop him. The other doesn’t even seem to notice.

”what?”

”my name-changed it-don’t wanna—be a fuckin-Morty” he’s barely able to understand what they’re saying.

”right.” Rick considers for a few minutes, Morty-Mortem looks honest to god fucked up, he’s surprised he’s still standing, let alone speaking. He sighs after a moment. This man isn’t his grandson, but he is somerick’s grandson, and he can’t let a Morty die. He takes his arm and walks them out of the store, it takes entirely too long for Mortem to notice.

”huh?” Mortem looks at his wrist where Rick is holding onto him, leading the stumbling young man through the streets.  
  


“I’m walking you home, which way” he says bluntly, Mortem glances down a road, they start walking.

It’s a shithole but Rick shouldn’t be surprised. He half carries Mortem into the shitty little bathroom, poor kid started throwing up his insides halfway back here. Half an hour later and two ruined towels later, he’s finally stopped throwing up, he looks so fucking tired. Rick actually feels bad for him, unbelievable. He steps out of the bathroom to find a cup or mug to get some water for him. This isn’t what he had planned to do tonight, he glances at the clock. 3am. He sighs and finishes cleaning Mortem up, then drags him into the living room, having discovered Mortem only has a couch and no bed. He’s out like a light as soon as his head hits the armrest on the couch. Rick throws the blanket over him and heads for the door. As an after thought, he drops a spare mobile phone onto the counter, his number scrawled onto a piece of paper next to it.

Aside from a text with a thank you from Mortem, It’s a few weeks until his phone beeps with a text that’s actually about anything. Rick is sat fiddling with something he’s hardly bothered to even fix, and easily drops it to check the message. Mortem needs money, and he’s offering he only think he knows how to do in return. Rick frowns at his phone, and after some decidedly guilt consideration, he heads out.

when he gets to Mortem’s place, he’s leant on the wall outside smoking, he’s wearing those same platform boots, though the rest of his outfit looks pretty ratty, he looks a little surprised to actually see Rick show up.

”you came? I-“

”Save it kid I don’t want anything from you, just don’t die, got it?” He says, holding out a wad of cash for him. Mortem eyes it carefully. They both knew he was lying, they both _knew_ Rick wanted to fuck him, but on the drive over his guilt had eaten him up, and he was trying hard to not fuck up anymore than he already had.

”sure?” He asks, he doesn’t believe a Rick would give him anything for nothing, and he’s right. Rick is definitely planning to use this an excuse for some favour later, even though he’s actually trying not to be shitty right now.

”Take it before I change my mind.” Ricks sighs and Mortem grabs the stack and stuffs it in his pocket, not even counting it. 

”Thanks...” he says quietly, he looks smaller than he did before, but not as fucked up as the last time Rick saw him, Rick is glad for that, and he turns to leave “hey, do you wanna get a drink? It’s happy hour at Crush” Mortem says quickly. He doesn’t want to be alone, it’s painfully obvious. Rick groans annoyed at he turns back to face him, this is a bad idea. Say no.

”fine, sure, whatever, lets go.” He waves his hand dismissively and starts walking. Mortem keeps pace with him. It’s awful and silent as they walk. Mortem looks uncomfortable. Rick doesn’t care, why would he. But once the first few drinks are down, the two manage to actually speak to each other “So how’s earth treating you?”

”Pretty shit, but it’s better than Creepy Morty.” Mortem shrugs as he downs another shot

”got a job yet?”

”nah, there isn’t much work for a guy who only knows how to strip.”

”weird, I thought there would be loads of work for a guy who only knows how to strip.” The two chuckle, but Mortem’s face settles into unhappiness, he’s thinking, that won’t do. Rick decides to buy them another round, just to wipe the frown off of his face. It works, for a while, but he has to keep buying more. When the frowns finally stop coming, it’s because they’re too smashed to even think. Rick is almost _proud_ he still holds his alcohol better than this kid. But then he reminds himself he’s a Rick. The Rick. Of course he’s got more tolerance than a fucking Morty. He sighs at that thought, Mortem isn’t any other Morty, there’s no way. He’s gotta be an older model, they don’t make them like this anymore. The sun is starting to rise when they finally get kicked out, the two laughing like idiots as they stumble back to Mortem’s place. Rick almost breaks the door slamming it open and helping Mortem inside.

  
Mortem drops the box of pizza they almost completely demolished onto the floor as Rick tries to sit down, the two trip on each other and the laugh their asses off as they land on top of each other on the couch. Rick tries to get up but one of the chains on Mortem’s jeans has them hooked together. They both gasp when they’re yanked back toward each other. They’re both way too drunk to figure out how to fix that. Rick pushes Mortem down further onto the couch to get more hand room to unhook them. Mortem makes an ‘oof’ noise as his back hits the hard plush of the couch, and he’s stunned for a moment. This is clearly more explicit that it was meant to be. he looks up at Rick above him, his hands on both of their pants. Mortem’s face flushes red and he tries to pull away again, still way too drunk for this shit.

”Stop, Mortem-stop-I just gotta-“ and skilled hands unlatch them from each other. Finally free, Mortem flops back on the couch with a sigh while Rick goes the other way, ending up sat on the other side of the couch. The two look at each other for a moment before they laugh again. Mortem drops at least 3 of his cigarettes trying to light one. Rick watches Mortem smoke for a few moments, was too engrossed in his lips. he tips his head over the back of couch as he puffs out smoke, Rick watches the tendons and muscles in his neck move for less than a second before he’s across the couch, on top of Mortem again, this time on purpose. He feels Mortem tense underneath him as he sinks his teeth into the skin where Mortem’s neck meets his shoulder. Mortem shivers underneath him, dropping his cigarette as he quickly gets his arms around Rick, tipping his head further back with a groan. Rick takes the invite as he gets it, immediately going after more skin as it’s offered to him. Mortem gasps at the bites, his fingers lacing into Rick’s hair, it’s greasy, and tangled like his.

”Gross.” Mortem mumbles quietly as Rick sits back a little and starts to get their clothes off. Mortem helps kick his jeans off, looking up at Rick with a little more clarity in his eyes “you’re gross, this is gross.” Rick stops for a second, just looking at the kid’s face. This is gross, but neither of them care enough, they’re too drunk and too fucked up. Mortem’s legs wrap around Rick’s waist and pull him closer again, and the two kiss. It’s messy and full of teeth, Rick bites and bites until Mortem’s lips bleeds and he just moans for more. He tastes of cigarettes, blood, and lsd and Rick curses himself for not doing this sooner. 

“get your pants off, kid.” Rick instructs, leaning back a little to give Mortem room. The Morty is drunk, but coordinated enough to shrug his jeans and underwear off. Rick uses the time to pull his own clothes off. He should be putting more effort into the foreplay, but he doesn’t care enough to. When Mortem has finally thrown his clothes off into a pile, Rick is back on top of him. He drags his nails up Mortem’s side as hard as he can, his dick twitching at the pained cries he pulls from the Morty underneath him.   
  


“Rick-“ he quiets the boy by pushing two fingers into his mouth, Mortem sets to work on them immediately, swirling his tongue around each digit. He’s trying so hard to make it good, and Rick could laugh at him it’s so pathetic. He only lets Mortem have his fingers for as long as necessary before he slicks his dick up with his new wet fingers. Mortem starts to move, like he might sit up, and Rick quickly corrects him with a hand in his hair, holding Mortem’s head still with an unrelenting tight grip. Mortem whimpers at the rough treatment, but doesn’t complain beyond that. He’s too drunk, head too fuzzy. Rick presses the head of his cock at Mortem’s ass for a moment before he pushes in, and it’s the only warning the Morty gets to relax. He gasps and then hisses at the painful sting. Rick watches his face contort in pain, then moans and rolls his hip forward harder. The kid is tight, especially with the abysmal amount of spit they’re using as lube. Mortem’s breaths are quick, short, high little things. He’s in significant pain, his hands are gasping at Rick’s shoulders weakly, making Rick look down at him, there are tears in his eyes. Rick knows he should care. He doesn’t. He shakes the hands off of his shoulders and pins Mortem’s hands above his head on the couch armrest. His other hand holds onto his hip, keeping the younger man still underneath him so he can use him. Mortem’s expression is difficult to read, but Rick would wager that he’s confused. Rick pulls out a ways before shoving his hips forwards again, hard, biting his lip as he groans at how tight the kid is. Mortem shrieks, another high noise “Ow-Rick!” He struggles against Rick’s grip, but his efforts are pointless.

”shut up.” Rick growls at him, giving him another hard thrust. The tears spill over and Mortem is crying, whimpering at each thrust, trying not to cry out. He’s unsuccessful.

“Aah! Stop! It’s-too much!”   
  


“you can take it.” Rick’s gruff response comes through his gritted teeth. He’s panting hard, groaning each time he pulls out, because Mortem tenses around him hard when he does, anticipating the next painful thrust. “God you’re tight kid, come on, you can do it.” He rolls his hips forwards again, pushing up against Mortem’s ass harder, trying to get him to take Rick right to the hilt, it’s a struggle for the kid to take all of him with how tight he is. Mortem’s thighs are a tight squeeze around Rick’s waist, his heels are dug into the older man’s back, and he feels when the boy tenses his thighs further, a shuddering gasp coming with the reaction. There it is. Rick isn’t sure why he bothered to find it, he doesn’t care about Mortem getting off at all. But he did. Maybe it’s because he tightens up even more when Rick starts to rail into the ball of nerves without restraint. Mortem arches underneath him and screams, there are more tears on his cheeks, spit rolling down his chin and neck. The kid is blissed out, and Rick isn’t much better off. It’s so satisfying, ripping the Morty apart at the seams, hearing him, feeling how he comes apart, how he struggles against Rick’s grip on his hands above his head. Mortem’s voice is starting to come out hoarse, but Rick isn’t easy, intact it takes a hell of a lot for Rick to get off. Rick is about to get distracted when Mortem screams particularly loud, dragging Rick back to the present as he feels Mortem go stiff underneath him, ropes of cum spurting out between them. He doesn’t even slow, doesn’t give the kid even a second before he deepens his thrusts, no longer caring about hitting that bundle of nerves. Mortem’s awful screams choke off into gasps, then whimpers as Rick digs his nails into all the skin he’s holding onto. Mortem screws his eyes shut, crying still. Rick slams into him hard, again and again and again, it’s too much, Mortem is over sensitive and drowsy. Mortem fights weakly against Rick’s grip, and Rick moans lewdly at the display. “You don’t really want me to stop do you.” It isn’t a question, and he doesn’t care if he’s wrong. He leans down close to Mortem’s face and bites his neck hard, digging his teeth in and keeping the pressure on and he pounds into the kid. He pinches the skin between his front teeth, biting harder and harder until- Mortem screams again as Rick tastes blood. He pulls back immediately to watch the blood seep from the injury. Mortem thrashes against the hands pinning him down, screaming bloody murder. They’re both faintly aware that someone is banging on the wall of the apartment. Rick just moves his hips faster, the nails he had gripping Mortem’s hip have drawn blood now. He can finally feel that heat in the pit of his stomach. Mortem cries underneath him as he’s used, his nerves are all shot, it’s too much, far far too much. Mortem is getting used to it though, and he’s lessening up, and that won’t do. Rick stops suddenly, letting go, and Mortem breathes hard at the break, Rick untangling his legs from around his waist. He doesn’t even move much when he’s finally releases from the iron grip. It’s short lived however, as Rick immediately grabs him again. The bloody hand that was on his hip comes to Mortem’s hair, pulling a shocked yelp from the younger man as Rick takes a handful of his hair and drags him upright. Mortem winces at how badly it hurts, his mouth opens and he speaks without even think

“ow!ow ow Rick stop! Please please pleaseplease-“ he’s blabbering desperately, but he’s silenced by a kiss and a tongue down his throat, teeth reopening earlier splits in his lips. He whines against the mouth abusing his. The hand is still pulling his hair, rearranging him on the couch. The kiss breaks off while he’s still being manhandled into wherever Rick wants him. He can’t even open his eyes it hurts so bad. Then it stops. Mortem gasps out loud as he opens his wet eyes. He’s on Rick’s lap, his back against Rick’s chest. He breathes shakily before it’s cut off by a hand around his throat. Bloody finger nails scratching against the bite, squeezing pretty damn hard, Mortem could swear Rick is actually trying to kill him. Rick’s other hand grips onto the side of his hips that aren’t bleeding-yet. Mortem feels overworked, he could fall asleep he’s so exhausted, the lack of oxygen isn’t helping. He’s quiet, the fight fucked out of him. Rick’s heavy breaths are Static against his ear, and for a few quiet seconds, Mortem thinks it’s over. What an idiot. The hand gripping his throat lets go and tugs his hair again

“Hey! Are you even listening?” Mortem shudders and cries out “fine-I’ll do it myself” Mortem is t sure what Rick is talking about, but he knows he’s going to find out. He’s yanked up by his hair, and he screams as his thigh shake with effort to keep up with Rick. He’s manoeuvred by his hand for a moment before the hand on his hip suddenly pulls him down. Mortem cries out silently as he’s dragged down Rick’s cock, impaled onto it. He hears Rick moan in his ear “finally” the older man mutters. It takes Rick a moment to understand, he’s taken Rick to the hilt, it’s uncomfortable and he squirms, making Rick moans again. The hand in his hair pulls, snapping Mortem’s neck back as far as it will go, the muscles of his neck protest and he lets out the quietest squeak of fear, real fear. He’s held taut where he’s been positioned to. His head is Pulled and tipped back onto Rick’s shoulder, ass held down hard against Rick’s hips. Rick starts to move, picking up the hard pace from earlier. Mortem doesn’t have the strength to scream, his cries are silent, pleading gasps. Rick however, is finally getting off on this. He’s broken Mortem down, ravaged him until he couldn’t even think of fighting back, pushed and pushed until his body complained against Rick’s. The sounds he’s hearing, skin hitting skin, choked off submissive whimpers, he loves it. He rolls up into Mortem hard. Using the hand on the boy’s hip to drag him Up and down his dick. hard and harder each time. He holds Mortem right where he wants him and uses him, driving into the tightness, until finally. Finally-

“yesyesyesyesyes-!yes~” his whispered Gasps cut off into a quiet moan as he pulls Mortem down onto him, fully sheathing himself as he finally comes. He stays still for a moment, hearing the blood rushing in his ears, the thump of his heart as it quakes his body from aftershocks. Then he lets go of Mortem’s hair, but Mortem doesn’t move, he stays limp against Rick, eyes fixed on the ceiling, tears dries on his face. Rick looks his face over for a second, watching closely as a few drops of blood slide down from his lips. He sighs as he leans back on the couch, taking the still impaled Mortem with him. The boy whimpers. Rick gets both of his hands on Mortem’s hips and starts to raise him up off of him, Mortem groans quietly, but makes a much louder, pitiful noise when Rick’s cock pops free of his tight heat, followed by globs of cum, leaking down his thighs. Rick gives Mortem a push and he goes down onto the couch without even trying to catch himself. He’s truly ruined that boy. His years in the bdsm scene tell him he Very obviously needs To administer first aid and proper aftercare. But he doesn’t care, he’s almost ashamed to admit it to himself. He finds Mortem’s cigarette from earlier and relighted it, taking a few puffs as he just comes down from the high. It’s been years since he got off that well. After twenty minutes or so, he stands up, coming over to Mortem’s side of the couch. He’s out cold. Passed out or asleep? He doesn’t really care. Rick scrounges around for whatever food Mortem happens to have in his cupboards. he plops himself back onto the couch with a pack of Chips and lets himself fall asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

When Rick gets another text from Mortem, he ignores it. He ignores him for weeks, he hates himself and he swings from feeling fine and justifying what he did, to wanting to kill himself because he _actually_ fucked his grandson or, someone who’s genetically exactly the same as his grandson, but definitely isn’t. He groans as he gets another text, it’s been three weeks, he’s ghosting a fucking Morty. What is he even doing. How did his life end up this way. Then Morty walks into the garage. _His_ Morty

”hey, uhh, grandpa Rick?” Rick puts the phone into his pocket casually as he turns to Morty, who looks sheepish and nervous

”hey.”   
  


“uhh, I just, I just wanted to say that, y’know, I’m sorry I’ve been a massive butthole lately, I know you’ve been kinda sad-“

”I haven’t been sad Morty, I’ve been depressed.”

  
”oh uhh, well, I’m sorry-“

”not cause of you. You wanna go on adventures again?”

”uhh well yeah I-“

”great lets go” he drops his phone onto the table and drags Morty out.

It’s another week later when he decides to text Mortem back. They decide to meet up, and twenty minutes later Rick is knocking on the door. When Mortem opens it Rick is immediately all over him again, Rick closes the door behind him with a kick and pushes Mortem back over the arm of his couch. Mortem squeaks with surprise as Rick ravages his neck with hickeys. He hears the younger man moan, but he feels his palms pressed against his chest, he’s pushes back quickly, and he recovers just as quickly, going again. But Mortem stops him again 

“Rick-wait-stop, I wanna talk” Rick sighs with frustration as he leans back 

“why does everyone wanna talk why can’t we just do what we wanna do?”

”cause-I- this isn’t right-“

”But you want it”

”yeah but!-“ he pushes Rick back again “you’ve ignored me for a month asshole! Why!?” With Mortem’s suddenly raised voice Rick actually stops, looking him up and down “I-I _needed_ you here a Rick!” He continues, he’s almost as tall as Rick is “I got a job, then I got fucking robbed, and I called and texted you so many times! I needed you-I-fuck-“ he leans back against the wall and slides down it. Rick just watches him fall apart. As he watches he notices everything finally. He’s covered in bruises and bandaids, he’s thinner and paler than before, his apartment looks like shit, there’s a mattress thrown down in one corner that’s already stained to shit where he’s obviously turning tricks. There are needles thrown about the floor, trash everywhere. Rick sighs, crouching down to be at Mortem’s level

”Yeah, I did ignore you, why did you think I wouldn’t? I’m a Rick.” Mortem looks up at him, and he’s so upset, so fucking upset. There’s so much hurt in his eyes “I thought you were smarter than the other Mortys, I thou-“ Mortem gives him a hard right hook and Rick stumbles back. Then sets his eyes on Mortem, the two of them are giving each other death glares.

”my name... Isn’t. Morty.” Mortem growls “I’m not some fucking Morty, okay?” His voice trembles and Rick relaxes a little, honestly not wanting him to cry again.

”yeah, okay, fine, sorry” he sighs. Mortem curls up against the wall  
  


”don’t. Just don’t.” Mortem says quietly “just get out.” He points to the door, and Rick spies the track marks down his arm

”No.” Rick says, and Mortem sighs frustratedly

”you don’t even care! Why stay? You don’t even pretend to care!”

”hey! I do care, I just don’t show it how you think I should, that’s not my fault.” Rick shrugs and Mortem stands up, frowning at the older man

”Just leave Rick. I have work tonight.”

”what kind of work?” Rick asks in an accusatory way, looking at the mattress. Mortem clenches his fists and sighs again

”the only kind of work a guy who only knows how to strip can find. Why?” He’s defensive and upset. Rick raises his voice a little

”you know it’s not like I enjoy seeing you like this, I don’t want to see you fucking random guys for drugs!”

”is that what you’re so upset about? You’re just fucking jealous?!” They’re raising their voices again, and someone bangs on the wall to get them to shut up. But they keep going, until they’re screaming their voices out at each other. Another punch is thrown, by Rick this time, but after that they’re brawling, and Mortem is fucking strong, especially for a Morty-

Beth frowns at the two of them as she pays their bails “dad, you’re 70, I really didn’t think I’d have to be paying your bail at this point” she mutters a little and they both follow her out of the station

”would you rather I was senile and lived in a nursing home?” He drawls as they step outside, before she can answer, he turns to Mortem “get lost, and give me my phone back before you do.” He spits, Mortem frowns back at him but before they can start at each other again Beth steps in

”So dad, why don’t you introduce your friend?”

”He’s not my friend.” He sees Mortem wince before he recovers

”yeah, more like your whore.” He growls back, tossing the phone to Rick, before turning on his heel and leaving.

The journey home is silent, but as they pull into the driveway Beth sighs “you know, he seemed like nice guy-“

”I don’t wanna talk about it”

”I know, but maybe you Should dad.”

”why? So I can fall in love like an idiot and then loose someone else because no one in their right mind would ever stay with me? Yeah No thanks.” He says honestly, unusual.


	4. Character Art

So I drew the awful bastards in this fic. I’m pretty conflicted on how to feel about writing this tbh but I’m glad you seem to like it! And Mortem as a character :) let me know if he looks how you thought he would.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter: drugs, mentions of abuse, vomit, restraints, withdrawal, masturbation.
> 
> Let me know if I need to add anything to this list ^
> 
> I worked really fucking hard on this one, I hope y’all like it. I’ll be rewriting some of the other chapters so keep an eye out for that

Mortem is high for the next few weeks solidly, he isn’t enjoying it exactly, but it’s better than being actually conscious enough to think. When he finally sobers up he’s at his dealer’s house, sprawled out across a dirty bed, entirely naked and very queasy, he spies new track marks on his left arm. He groans and just lies there for a few moments, evaluating. He pulls himself up to sitting after a few minutes of feeling sorry for himself, wishing he could will away the way his head is pounding. When he can finally find his feet he gets them under himself and gets up, he’s shaking on his feet, he feels like he’s going to pass out and he can feel his stomach lurching. He spends a few minutes finding his clothes, they’ve been tosses into a pile, he thanks god that no one stole his shoes, but he doesn’t put them on yet, he’d definitely break his ankle if he tried to walk in them now. Mortem pulls his gross as fuck underwear and pants on, his shirt is next and he can only see black behind his eyes for a moment as he pulls it on over his head, his arms above his head. He sways, trying not to pass out, he can _feel_ his heart straining-trying not to just give up and stop beating-with the stress his body is under. He must’ve been close to overdose the last time he shot up. That’s for sure. He stumbles into the kitchen, to his surprise and resentment, Rick is there, talking to his dealer. The two see each other at the same time and give each other equally disgusted looks.

”I’m disappointed, but not surprised” Rick says without missing a beat, fucking Ricks and their fucking ability to think up the worst possible thing to say in less than a second. Mortem just glares at him as best he can with the hangover he has, deciding that if he tried to open his mouth right now, he’d probably be sick.

”you know him?” The dealer asks, looking between the two

”unfortunately” they both say and the dealer looks a little worried for a moment. Mortem has to swallow down the bile in his throat.

”well no fighting, can’t have any pigs sniffing about here.” The two stay quiet, just glaring at each other and the dealer finishes measuring out chemicals “listen, I dunno what you want this for, but seriously, be careful with this stuff.”

”yeah sure, just hand it over.” Mortem watches as cash is exchanged for a tub of some sort of crystal. The dealer carries the rest of his stock away, leaving the two alone

”what’s that for?” Mortem asks, leaning against the counter, trying not to look as pathetic as he feels. But he knows he probably looks even worse. Rick looks him up and down far less than subtly before he replies.

”a reactor, this stuff is pretty shit but it’s the best place to get it short notice.” Rick explains casually, putting the tub in his coat. Mortem shrugs and picks up one of the mugs on the side, filling it with water from the tap before taking a delicate sip, then grimacing. His stomach isn’t entirely empty, but he feels terrible, he’ll have to take this slow if he doesn’t wanna puke. “So how’s the fresh start going?” Rick probes from behind him, Mortem half slams the mug down, water sloshing over the brim. He whips around quickly to glare at Rick

”Do you enjoy making me feel awful?” As he says it he feels his skin crawl, he’s sweating and he feels like his head is too heavy and too light at the same time. He’s gonna puke.

”obviously.”

”you’re such an assh-“ Mortem turns to the skin quickly, and vomits. It’s awful, he can taste blood. He realises Rick is stood next to him as he spits out the last of it, he’s holding his hair up out of the way, and it makes him feel sick again. He goes to glare but Rick stops him by taking his arm and walking him out. Mortem doesn’t even bother to ask where they’re going but his skin crawls Where Rick touches him, he tries to pull away weakly but his legs are giving out underneath him, his vision going black at the edges “ _Rick_ ” he pleads, unable to even try and explain how desperate he is. He isn’t even sure what he wants. He wants Rick to let go of him but he knows if he stays here he’ll probably die. He’s overdosed before, he knows this feeling. The way his hands and feet are numb and there’s static ringing in his ears. 

”you’re gonna kill yourself acting like that. No wonder Big Morty had you on a leash.” Rick’s voice is far away, but it still hurts. Rick feels Mortem flinch at the mention of his former pimp, and he’s sick again, but he’s crying this time, and he has to catch him as his knees buckle underneath him.

”leave me alone asshole! You don’t care. You never cared, just let me fucking die, then I won’t be your problem.” Mortem slurs out through tears. Rick just pushes him into ship, ignoring his complaints. Mortem is wobbly still but tries to leave, Rick gets a hand on his shoulder and pushes him down into the seat Morty usually sits in. 

“try not to barf on the console would you.” And they’re off, Speeding back to Rick’s house. Mortem surprisingly doesn’t throw up again until they get into the garage, where he passes out trying to get to a chair. Rick sighs heavily. Why does this kid keep drawing him back in. He fishes out the medical kit, choosing from a row of needles in it. He frowns at the track marks as he injects the medicine. He’d rather not, more chemicals in his body isn’t the ideal, but he’s on the edge, and Rick honestly has no idea how he isn’t dead, but he theorises that’s space drugs are just harder, and Mortem was probably used to those before he came here. Morty walks in.

”hey Rick- uhh.”

”get out Morty I’m busy”

”I-is that another Morty?” Morty asks, perking up, rushing over To the table where Rick has laid Mortem out, stretching onto his tiptoes to see the Morty from above.

”yes.”   
  


“he-he looks pretty cool.”

”he looks like he’s gonna die if you don’t quit distracting me.” Rick tells him. Morty goes quiet then, just watching. Mortem starts to come to, Rick is honestly impressed.   
  


“what the fuck Rick?” He complains, trying to sit up, Rick pulls him up by the strap of his vest, he’s helping, but he’s dressed the gesture up like regular Rick assholery.

“Yeah, don’t want a ‘thanks for making sure I didn’t die’ or anything.” He spits. Mortem scowls at Rick, then he sees Morty, who is quietly watching “ugh you gotta be kidding me” he groans and looks the other way. Morty frowns

”hey-wh-what’s that supposed to mean?”

”means you’re in the way Morty, I told you, I’m busy.”

”but I’ve never gotten to talk to another Morty before!-“ for a guy who’s sick, Mortem moves pretty fucking fast. He has Morty by the collar of his shirt faster than Rick can even react and he drags him right into his face.

”I’m not a fucking Morty, you got that kid?” There’s venom in his voice and fury in his eyes. Morty looks at a Rick for help, who just shrugs.

”b-but you look like one? I-Rick said you were!” Morty quickly moves the blame to Rick, wanting the very scary Morty to let go of him. Which he does as he turns to Rick with a growl.

”he did huh?”

”you are, don’t get mad at me about it.”

”you know how I feel about being called a Morty.” Mortem snarls, he sways uneasily but still tries to throw swings at Rick. Rick catches his fists, holding him still while the younger man tries to get free, suddenly looking like he’s gonna be sick again. There’s beads of sweat on his face and he’s gone pale, Rick can feel how his muscles are shaking with strain, just from sitting up.

”You need to quit trying to fight me, you’re gonna pass out again.” Mortem tries to ignore how he knows Rick is right, Ricks are always right. He sighs frustratedly, going to pull away, but he gets another head rush and he ends up with his forehead against Rick’s chest, groaning in pain. Rick feels a jolt of heat through his body, unable to not picture the groan and closeness in different circumstances. He has to pull himself together, this kid is gonna kill him, and Morty is right there, god damnit. “Morty, get out, we’re busy.” He decides there’s no way he can deal with both of them, and he’d rather make sure Mortem didn’t die than try and deal with whatever prepubescent issue Morty was having.

”but I wanna help!”

”no.” Both Rick and Mortem say. He looks between them before he walks out unhappily. Rick pulls more needles out of the kit.

”what did you take?” Mortem is surprised by the nonjudgmental tone isn his voice, and it takes him a little while to reply

”I’m not sure.” Rick looks at his face, but Mortem has turned away from him, the mood has shifted to something somber. “Crack, I guess, meth?” Rick hums, taking hold of Mortem’s arm, pressing another needle into the skin, up close he can see how Mortem reflexively relaxes as the sting. Not good, he shouldn’t enjoy it that much.

”I can keep you alive while your body burns it off.”

”thanks.” Mortem says quietly, still not looking at the older man.  
  


“I thought you wanted a fresh start-“ Mortem winces and go into defensive.

”shut up! I-“

”I’m not taking the piss this time, I’m serious.” His tone shuts Mortem down, and he looks down, shame visible on his face 

“I did.” he looks smaller now, and Rick could almost forget he isn’t a normal Morty. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t. He can’t.

”so what happened?” Mortem looks up at Rick, frowning, thinking hard.

”it’s,, I can’t stop thinking about everything, having Big Morty as a pimp was one thing, but it’s not just that.” He rubs his temples, tension obvious in his body. Rick puts his hands on his shoulders and digs in with his thumbs. The satisfied gasp Mortem gives him is awful, it has Rick’s blood rushing downward, and he has to take a deep breath. _He doesn’t want to fuck, even if he did, he’d probably pass out on you_. Rick keeps going, he knows plenty enough about muscle groups and nerve points to give the kid some sort of help with the intense mass of knots he has. The relief of tension has Mortem crying, and that should _not_ turn Rick on more. He forces himself to stop, and waits for Mortem to continue.

”I was passed around Ricks like a sex doll, I guess that basically what I was, but still.” He shrugs “I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and then I couldn’t find a job, and all I could do was to whore myself out for money.” He huffs, crossing his arms. He doesn’t look like he’s going to pass out anymore. Mortem lets out a quiet bark of a laugh, Rick can tell by the tone that it’s self deprecative. “Not like it fucking matters, after we got arrested I lost the apartment anyway.” Rick feels his stomach knot. _Fuck_. That was his fault. Rick hums again, to tell Mortem he’s still listening. “It was worse after that.” Mortem’s voice has gone much quieter, he’s hunched over again. There’s a lot Rick could say, but he won’t.

”come on, you need sleep.” He starts to walk into the house. He hears Mortem following him. He leads him to his bedroom and gestures at the bed. Mortem looks like he might complain, but he doesn’t. He sits down on the edge of the bed and looks up at Rick. Rick goes to his cupboard and opens it, digging through it for a moment. He hears Mortem swear

”what?” He leans around the door of the cupboard to see Mortem looking upset

”I left my shoes at the fucking dealer’s place.” Rick wouldn’t have cared if it was any other item, but he had picked up that the shoes were important. He stays quiet as he closes the cupboard, a pair of cuffs in his hand. Mortem looks at them, then at Rick as he comes back to the bed “uhh-“

”you’ll be going through withdrawals soon, and I have things I need to do.” As the words left his mouth, he actually considered his plan again. Was it a good idea to leave Mortem to withdrawals alone? God definitely not. But the younger man isn’t complaining, he’s just watching Rick quietly. The two stare at each other for a moment, then Mortem sighs and offers up his wrist. Rick takes the opportunity before his brain starts making him feel guilty again. The cuff tightens around Mortem’s wrist, and clicks at it locks around the bars of the bed frame. Mortem sucks in a breath, and their eyes meet for a moment. They’re too close to each other, way too close. Rick pulls back and clears his throat. “Get some sleep. I’ll make sure you don’t die.” And then he’s out of the room, leaning against the closed door, sighing heavily. He walks to the dining room, leaning around the doorframe instead if walking in to hide how tight his pants are. His family are all sat at the table. 

“oh, dad, you weren’t in the garage.” Beth gestures to the food on the table. The ignores her invitation 

“I’m gonna have a shower, don’t go in my room, there’s...” he considers how to explain “a guy I know is locked in there.”   
  


“what?!” God he hates Jerry so much “but-“

”he’s a drug addict, I’m helping him get clean. Just don’t open the door.” He huffs defeatedly, walking away. He locks the bathroom door once he’s inside, tugging his pants and underwear down, groaning the moment his gets his hand on his dick. He starts up the shower, dragging the rest of his clothes off between hard strokes. He leans against the wall of the shower, biting his lip to stifle his moans. He isn’t gentle with himself, and there’s no reason to make it pretty, he just fucks into his hand quickly. The steam doesn’t even feel hot against his skin, and he can’t help how his hips buck up into his fist. He can’t help it. What the fuck is with that kid. He moans out loud remembering how Mortem had gasped earlier, how he’d squirmed when Rick had been forcing some of the tension out of his body. His thoughts spiral and focus onto how their eyes had met. He had known how fucked up and turned on Rick was. Rick gasps hard enough to almost choke as he comes, and his vision whites out, hand tightening his grip on himself to draw it out a little. When he can finally breathe again he sucks in oxygen fast, going limp against the wall. _Fuck_.


End file.
